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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24626119">Applied Deleted Scenes Analysis</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/L56895/pseuds/L56895'>L56895</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Community (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Deleted Scenes, F/M, not-canon</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 11:09:15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,257</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24626119</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/L56895/pseuds/L56895</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of deleted scenes between Jeff and Annie. Definitely not canon, but not necessarily disproved by canon!</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Annie Edison/Jeff Winger</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>66</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Cooperative Polygraphy</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Okay so I'm definitely not through writing these two! I'd like to say that all these scenes will come together... but we'll see how we go!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“You keep <em>trophies?”</em></p>
<p>He’d been expecting her anger, but not to be confronted by it in the men’s bathroom after he slunk away from the group. Pierce’s polygraph mayhem had hit a natural end and they had agreed to meet back in an hour after lunch to talk about what his bequeathments would mean for the group. Usually, they would eat together but none of them were feeling particularly charitable in spirit after their ill-fated ‘calibration round’ and the news that Troy would soon be leaving them. Trust Pierce to drive a wedge between them even in death.</p>
<p>If Britta had been pissed by the underwear scandal, Annie had been downright hurt and for a moment he had thought that her shock would reveal something to the group that they had wanted to keep hidden. Something secret and sordid but that he couldn’t bring himself to consider ‘wrong.’ Luckily, disgust won out over their observational skills and the focus had remained on his transgression, rather than her reaction to it. But the look she gave him told him that, while the others may have gotten past it, he still had some explaining to do.</p>
<p>“Annie,” he began, but she landed a irritated smack on his chest and folded her arms again.</p>
<p>“Don’t even try and rationalise this, Jeff, you’re disgusting.”</p>
<p>Her anger hit a part of him that he was forever trying to suppress and, hurt, he stepped up to her, looking down at her wide, sad eyes. He could comfort her, but his ego was feeling bruised.</p>
<p>“Hey, I’ve never pretended not to be disgusting,” he snapped and she shrank back, eyes wet. He instantly regretted his tone, and for a moment he thought she might storm out and leave him, but instead she turned to lean against the bathroom sinks, arms folded across her chest. The gesture was girlish and he felt a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth despite himself. Usually when he had upset her in the past her anger would break as soon as he levelled up the charm and she would smile back, but instead she trained on him a look still tinged with pain and he sighed, stepped forward and placed a hand on her shoulder.</p>
<p>“I’m sorry, Annie.”</p>
<p>She didn’t shake him off so, emboldened, he risked snaking his arm around her. She leant in to him, rested her head against his chest and he sighed.</p>
<p>“Just tell me... did you ever keep a trophy of me?”</p>
<p>A hot flush spread across his face and he looked down at her- in to those big, blue eyes. It was the first time she’d ever acknowledged <em>that night- </em>even the morning after she had got up to make pancakes as if nothing had ever happened- and part of him assumed she wanted to forget the whole thing.He fought the overwhelming urge to kiss her and won, swallowed gently but still leant in closer.</p>
<p>“No…” he whispered. If he didn’t know better he would have sworn for the briefest of moments that she looked hurt.</p>
<p>“Why not?”</p>
<p>“You’d want me to?”</p>
<p>“Not really,” she shrugged, “But it would be nice to know you wanted to… you know… as a reminder?”</p>
<p>At that he laughed, pulled his arm away to fold them across his chest and bumped her gently with his hip. He sometimes found it hard to marry up the image in his head of an Annie who had developed a sweet crush on him, pretended to play house with him, who was confident enough to turn up at his door after his graduation, but not-so-confident that she insisted they turn out the lights… with the Annie that came back to him when they all reunited. One who had gone out and seen a little bit more of the world, experienced a little bit more of people, found a little bit more of herself. She’d changed far more in the past two years than he had, and he sometimes worried that she was leaving him behind. Even so, when she turned around to hug him she still fit against his chest in the same way- cheek pressed right against his heart.</p>
<p>“Annie…” he said softly, fighting the urge to breathe in the scent of her shampoo, “You have a key to my apartment. You came over last week. I see you <em>every </em>day. We might not actually be having sex, but I hardly need to keep some of your underwear to remember you.”</p>
<p>For a moment she was quiet and the only thing he could hear was the soft <em>drip-drip </em>of a pipe leaking somewhere in the room- he made a mental note to remind her to add that to one of her ‘to do’ stars later. She always got so excited about those stars. Then, she stirred against him and he looked down to find her glancing up at him.</p>
<p>“You kept Britta’s.”</p>
<p>He shrugged, making the fabric of his sweater brush up against her chin.</p>
<p>“I never felt the same way about Britta as I do about you.”</p>
<p>He hoped she would gloss over the subconscious slip in to the present tense.</p>
<p>Annie’s face took on that heart-melting expression that he had only ever seen her train on him; her doe eyes sparkling, lips parted. It was the same look she gave him all those years ago outside of the Transfer Dance- right after she had pushed up on to her toes to kiss him. If ‘please’ were an expression, it would be hers.</p>
<p>“Want me to get rid of the box?”</p>
<p>The lip wobble. If he wasn’t careful, he’d be explaining to the rest of the group how he made Annie cry again. Then, she rallied and, grin widening, tucked herself back against his chest. For such a small person, her hugs really could be winding.</p>
<p>“Yes please.”</p>
<p>They stayed like that for a few more moments, until Annie’s phone buzzed in her pocket and she broke away apologetically.</p>
<p>“Britta’s wondering where I am.”</p>
<p>“Right…”</p>
<p>Pocketing her phone, Annie turned to the door. He already missed the moment between them- cut short like every other moment they had had recently. Before she reached the door, he found his voice.</p>
<p>“Wanna come over tonight and watch a movie?”</p>
<p>She looked back at him strangely, one eyebrow raised.</p>
<p>“Do I get to pick?”</p>
<p>“I guess so.”</p>
<p>“Then sure.”</p>
<p>He held the door open for her as they left the bathroom, casting a quick glance down the corridor to check the coast was clear. The last thing he needed was to open up the can-of-worms that is him and Annie.</p>
<p>“Sorry about your fake-Olympian boyfriend,” he said as they walked back towards the study room together, leaning in to nudge her.</p>
<p>“It’s okay, he was just passing the time until the real thing came around.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Conventions of Space and Time</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Jeff secretly enjoys an appletini.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Jeff has never had an appletini before. They’re sticky and sweet and make his head ping with an overload of sugar that he hasn’t felt in years. He’s loathe to admit that he kind of likes them, but there’s something about denying yourself for years that makes tasting something all the more delicious. Across the tiny bar table, Annie’s drink has coated her tongue green and the way she mocks him tells him he has the same problem. When she laughs, there’s a waft of apple sweets that sends him reeling. He orders them two more each.</p><p>“Jeff! Are you trying to get me drunk?” she giggles when he places her third down in front of her, “So much for not wanting to order any!”</p><p>She’s bubbly and a little boozy and unsteady on her stool, but Jeff scoots his own closer and steadies her with a hand on her knee. Her blue cardigan is folded neatly on the table next to them and her bare shoulders are a little flush under the harsh hotel fluorescents. It’s not a particularly forgiving lighting, and he wishes he could find a reflective surface somewhere nearby to check out how he looks, but Annie suits anywhere and she lights up his little corner of the room better than any strip of lighting.</p><p>“It’s not my fault you’re such a lightweight,” he says quietly, watching her sway gently to the music wafting through speakers somewhere above them.</p><p>“I’m not a lightweight, Jeff, I’m just twenty one. Not all of us have been drinking for years!”</p><p>It’s not a slight, not from her, but he feels a little fizzle of disappointment deep inside him. She’s young and fresh and doesn’t really even know what a hangover is when he is jaded and selfish and has far too much experience of waking up with regret pounding through his skull.</p><p>They thought she was his wife though.</p><p>It’s been niggling at him since she threw a drink in his face and he stormed up to her room to confront her. An entire fleet of staff thinking that she was his and, against all odds, he would have the audacity to flirt with other women in a bar.</p><p>Annie has drained her third drink while he swirls his thoughtfully in the glass and her hand has snaked down to his on her knee. A dangerous challenge to his senses and he tips the last of his drink in to his mouth as a distraction. Wonders if he would be able to taste it on her if only he learnt in closer.</p><p>“You think the group are staying here tonight?” she says innocently. Her eyes are wide and a little pleading when she looks up at him and his brain pings again.</p><p>“I saw Troy and Abed playing some laser quest game a little while ago. Not sure where the others are. I doubt Pierce and Shirley got a room.”</p><p>She laughs quietly, a little snort of air as she looks down at their hands. For a moment they are both quiet,  and the seconds tick by slowly.</p><p>“I should go to bed,” she says finally, suddenly a little less giggly and a little more regretful, “It’s a long drive tomorrrow and I don’t want to feel sick in your car.”</p><p>She waves a hand vaguely, picks up her cardigan and gives him a sad look. The spell broken, he realises he has a choice; let her go or reach out and show her everything he’s been feeling.</p><p>He meets himself half way.</p><p>“I’ll walk you up!” he says quickly, watches her brighten, “It’s the least I can do.”</p><p>He reaches out an elbow to help her hip down from her stool.</p><p>“Mi’lady.”</p><p>“Mi’lord.”</p><p>They head across the hotel arm in arm and at the door to her room she stumbles, laughing. Jeff grabs her around the waist to steady her, rubs his thumbs over the fabric of her dress as she rights herself. Pulling her in to her room, he deposits her on the bed and tries to take a step back but her hands grip his shirt and he finds himself tumbling down next to her. The elevator ride has gone to her head.</p><p>“Sorry for going all... you know... on you today,” she says quietly as he arranges himself on the bed to face her, hands pillowing his head. They have landed a little down the mattress and he has to bend his knees to stop his feet from dangling off the edge of the bed. Annie curls up to tuck herself in to the curve he has made with his body, knees pressed against his thighs. He’s still wearing his jacket, an armour of propriety, but it feels tight and he’d happily shuck it off and fall asleep like this with her.</p><p>“S’ok,” he murmurs, lacking anything more coherent to say.</p><p>“Do you want to sleep here? I have plenty of stuff for you,” she says quietly. Her words are jokey, but there’s a nervousness to her tone and in her eyes.</p><p>“I should go...”</p><p>But he makes no attempt to get up and even he hears the hollowness in the words. Later, if anyone asks, he can argue he was a gentleman.</p><p>“Stay...” she whispers again, a little less nervous and a little more sure. He feels his body sink deeper in to the mattress, thinks about the almost impossible walk from her room to his across the hall, and gives in. It’s effort enough to push his jacket from his shoulders and he slides back down to the bed, shuffles up so his head is on the pillows and watches her sleepily do the same.</p><p>“Just sleep?” she says quietly. It’s not really a question but a laying down of boundaries and if there’s a part of him that’s disappointed then it’s far foreshadowed by the part that feels lucky to watch her close her eyes and fall asleep. She’s close, watching him through thick eyelashes with his face scrunched against the pillow.</p><p>“Just sleep,” he agrees, reaching out to tuck her hair behind her ear. She watches him dozily while he wrestles with his belt buckle and pushes his jeans down, kicking them off of the end of the bed. Very gently, and with a certain amount of trepidation, he leans over to pull off her pumps and drop them down on to the floor. They land with a gentle thud and, feet free, she rubs her cold toes against his calves when he lays back down.</p><p>“Nigh’ Jeff,” she murmurs.</p><p>“Night, Annie,” he whispers back, curling a hand around hers between them on the bed.</p>
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